Matters of the Heart and Mind
by justagirlwithideas
Summary: Somewhere between the eye rolling and name calling and repeated cursing of his name in the wee hours of the night, Lily Evans realizes that the difference between love and hate is dangerously thin. (It's a romance, of course, as all the greatest stories are, about a boy who chased and a girl who ran). Jily. Multichapter fic.
1. Prologue

**AN: Hello there, lovelies! I know I haven't written in forever. Forgive me. I've always wanted to write a multichapter Harry Potter fic, and have now acquired the inspiration to do so. You'll find that parts of the writing will resemble ****The Book Thief.**** These elements are Zusak-inspired, so all credit goes to him there. The cover picture is done by Viria, queen of all fanart. **

**Without further ado…**

**Disclaimer: Jo Ro owns all. I own nothing. **

Matters of the Heart and Mind

Prologue

"_Love me or hate me, both are in my favor. If you love me, I will always be in your heart; if you hate me, I will always be in your mind." –Unknown_

There was not much to be said about the Day of Firsts. The sky was not particularly bright, and the air was rather humid. The train broke down once. She had forgotten her red scarf, the once that made her cheeks appear rosy. He, of course, did not notice. He didn't notice _her _at all, really; it was the greasy companion that drew his hazel eyes over to the other end of the compartment, tugging his dark eyebrows up his forehead.

They made eye contact once. She was straightening her shoulders with all the dignity of a disparaging eleven year old, frostily notifying her cohort that the next compartment down might contain more preferable company. She looked away first. And he laughed when she left.

And that was that.

**An observation about fate:**

**It doesn't call much attention to itself. **

Lily Amelia Evans didn't call much attention to herself, either—no— her hair did all the work for her. Shining rivulets of red swished to and fro behind her shoulders. Reader, they were the loveliest locks you had ever seen. The grandest bit of all? Lily Amelia Evans didn't know it.

Her companion, however, certainly did. You remember him, don't you? The bloke from the train compartment? He was called was Severus Stanislav Snape, and he bore the name like a curse. The world simply called him Snape, but Lily was hardly the world. No, Lily Amelia Evans was something entirely different.

**A note about the Day of Firsts:**

**There were actually two days, **

**if you counted November 15****th****, 1971, too**

**(Like James Potter did).**

So let's skip ahead, reader, to that second fateful day: November 15th, 1971. For this is why you are here, are you not— to hear about the love story of Lily Amelia Evans and James Jonathan Potter? A fair warning: it is not what you expect. There are several years of denial, a good deal of tedious bantering, and a severe lack of kisses in the rain. But bear with me. I promise, it is a love story worth telling.

But where was I? November 15th, 1971.

Lily wasn't frightened of Rebecca Lee Rollin. The girl wore her scowl like Lily wore her favorite scarf: delicately. It played gently across her countenance, not marring her features but giving her face a sort of fierceness rarely found in a child.

And Lily admired it. She grabbed the bed post with one hand and swung her body around until she was nose to nose with her hostile roommate. "Come on, Bex," she grinned. "I know you like it."

"Nicknames are impractical," Rebecca Lee Rollin replied, folding a shirt on her bed. "I was given a name; why use another?"

"Because it creates a tie between the nicknamer and nicknamee. Displays affection, seals a bond."

"Right," "Bex" muttered, tugging on a stocking, "and what sort of bond could I possibly have with you— a girl I have known for about two months?"

Lily just smiled again.

**On Lily Amelia Evans:**

**She loved games, especially challenging ones.**

**And befriending the unfriendly**

**was the greatest game of all.**

This explained why Lily was in such a bright mood as she headed to the Great Hall, a reluctant but amused Bex at her side.

"You haveto meet Severus now," she insisted, orange curls bobbing as she scanned the corridor.

"The Slytherin boy?"

"Yes. _Please_ reserve judgment until you get to know him. He's just a bit…"

"Creepy?"

"No, quiet," Lily snapped. "This is my friend you're talking about here, my best friend. Believe it or not, you two have a bit in common."

"You better not be referring to looks," Bex muttered, tugging a black tendril of hair nervously.

"Be nice," she said, stifling back a giggle. And then all the mirth was knocked out of her short frame.

Someone _wasn't_ being nice to Severus, not at all. James Potter was leaning against the wall, one hand in his pocket, one hand wrapped around his wand— which was pointed directly at Sev.

"I was _trying_ to ignore you, Snivellus, but you keep insisting on insulting me. All that's going to do is drag me down to your level."

"What are you going to do, hex me?" spat Snape. "Don't flatter yourself, you snot-nosed prick. That would take _skill_. You think you're so talented, so _funny _and _smart_, but it's high time someone told you how idiotic you look, strutting about the castle like you own the place!"

"Sev, don't provoke him!" Lily shouted. She took a step towards the two, but Bex held her back.

"Don't do it, Lily. You'll only embarrass him," she said.

"What did you think?" Snape continued, scrunching his regrettably long nose in derision. "That you were _special? _Is that what your mum told you before you went to sleep each night, to keep you from pissing your bed? Well, let me tell you this, Potter, she was probably just as pompous and ugly as you are and—"

"How dare you!" Potter snarled, shoving Snape against the wall. "Insulting me is one thing, but if you insult my family I'll make you regret it." He turned to his friend, Sirius Black, who was watching the scene with crossed arms. "Sirius, what do you 'spose our friend Snivellus has got in his bag there?"

Potter snatched the pack off of Snape's shoulder and started rummaging through it lazily.

"What's this?" he asked, yanking a booklet out of the opening. "A _diary? _Where poor little Snivellus writes about her feelings?"

"_Give that back_," Snape growled. "Or I'll—"

"Go cry to your mummy?" Black crooned. He watched as Potter opened the journal, and Lily bit her lip, hard, because she knew what was inside.

"_Drawings_?" Potter hooted, incredulous. "Has no one told you that making pretty little pictures will not, in fact, make you pretty yourself?"

Snape's face was livid. He tried to slap the book, but Potter danced back. "Oh no, I'm nowhere near finished with this…"

Lily couldn't take it any longer. Yanking her arm out of Bex's grip, she marched up to the three and screamed with every bone in her small body, "Drop the book this very instant, Potter!"

"Oh look, Snivellus, your girlfriend's here to save your sorry, oily skin," Black crooned.

"I'm not his _girlfriend_," Lily said, still seeing red. "But I am his friend. And I won't put up with this childish pettiness a second longer!"

"Not his girlfriend, huh?" Potter said softly, flipping a journal page ostentatiously. "Then Snivellus just has a bit of a freaky crush, then?"

He ripped out the page, revealing a large drawing of Lily's own freckled face. Lily remembered the day clearly. She had weaved together a crown of flowers with magic and set it in her hair, claiming she was the queen of the fairies in a bout of silliness. And Severus had done a careful job of capturing every petal just right as he sketched her portrait, as she had requested.

It had been a lingering summer day, the kind that seemed to meander aimlessly through the ceaseless sunny hours, the kind that you folded into a deep crevice of your heart to remember during a dark time.

It had been a precious memory, and now James Potter was parading down the corridor with it over his head, laughing and ridiculing what had once been unspeakably sweet.

Lily swallowed a sticky lump that was rising in her throat. "I _hate _you," she whispered, but loud enough for Potter to hear. His eyes widened a bit, which gave her a kind of sick satisfaction. "That's right! I _loathe _you, James Potter, now and forever! Don't talk to me, or Severus, ever again!"

"Have it your way, Cherrytop. I'll be finished with our friend in just a moment."

"_Cherrytop?"_ Lily said through clenched teeth.

"I thought you said nicknames sealed a bond," Bex deadpanned to her right.

"Not helping."

"Sorry."

Potter turned to the Snape, whose vein was now visible on his forehead. "You say I'm not talented enough to cast a spell, Snivellus? How I do love to prove people wrong."

He tore the remaining papers out of the notebook and thrust them into Black's hands. With a swish and flick of his wand, Potter enunciated, "Wingardium leviosa!"

The lovely sketches Lily had watched Severus labor over so meticulously soared out of Black's grasp, into the air, all across the corridor. A crowd of fellow first-years began to form now, as classes had just been let out, but Potter's concentration did not break. A dozen— two dozen— maybe three dozen drawings floated across the room, at least half of them picturing Lily. Lily frowning, Lily sighing, her head in her hands, her hands in the flowers, her eyes always somewhere else. And there were other sketches too— darker ones, of shrouded figures and shadows and snippets of night. She didn't understand. She had posed for one picture, only one…but Sev had made _so many_. And then there were the others. Sev had never let her seen those, he kept those to himself. Now everyone could see them.

"Let them down, Potter!" she yelled, bunching her fists together.

"As you wish." And with a drop of his wand, all the papers went flying across the corridor, into the eager hands of the students waiting below.

"You _drew _these, Snape?" McKenzie Forbes snorted. "All of these? Does your little friend know you're in bloody love with her?"

They all laughed at that, not kindly but harshly. Lily's hands were shaking as she regarded Potter, who was still reveling in the rain of sketches falling through the air. She glanced about desperately for Sev, but he had disappeared, as he was so good at doing. There was only one thing to do then.

She approached Potter in three large strides and punched him as hard as she could in the face. He doubled back in shock, blood pouring from his nose, with disbelief and pain and— awe on his face, but if he cried out, Lily did not notice. All she heard was a dull roar in her ears.

Reader, remember this moment.

**The Second Day of Firsts:**

**The day Lily Amelia Evans fell in hate with James Jonathan Potter.**

**The day that James Jonathan Potter fell in love with Lily Amelia Evans.**

Puppy love, perhaps, but love nonetheless; that's how he would describe it in the years to come. A shameful day, but a necessary one, as it marks the beginning of our tale— a story of hate and love, mind and heart, and the faintest sprinkling of fate.

**Thanks for reading and reviewing.**

**Xoxo,**

**Jess**


	2. The Tedium of Pursuit

**AN: So you're going to make me work for my reviews, eh? Fine by me…here's the first real chapter.**

**Disclaimer: All hail Rowling**

**Chapter 1**

**The Tedium of Pursuit**

"Face it, Lils," Mary Emilee MacDonald whispered across Bex. "You _fancy_ him."

Lily tentatively directed her glance to the other side of the library, where Ryan Oliver Lewis laughing with the rest of his Hufflepuff Quidditch team. "I dunno…" she said, trying to hide her blush from her perceptive friend, "he's a fifth year."

"And you're a fourth year. It hasn't stopped anyone in the past."

"We've talked, like, twice, Mary. I doubt he even remembers my name."

"I declare B.S."

"You do that," Lily muttered, dipping her feather in her inkwell. She blew a couple scraggly bangs out of her eyes. The History of Magic essay was as awful as promised, and more.

"I'm serious, Lily. He's looking over here right now."

The redhead nearly dropped her quill. "Right now?"

"Right now," Mary smirked.

"Still doubt he knows who I am."

"You know what?" Mary said, rising from her chair. "I'm going to test that theory."

"_Mary!"_ Lily hissed. "Mary, get back here right now!"

She slumped back in her seat with a huff as her friend bisected the library, sweeping her light brown braid over her shoulder.

"She wouldn't."

"Honey," Bex sighed, "how long have we known our dear Mary now?"

Lily fought the urge to scream. "Okay. So I'm about to get humiliated out of this realm. It's not like I needed a love life, anyway."

It was, incidentally, at this exact moment that James Potter chose to appear on the scene. "What's up Chers? Rollin?" he said lightly, sliding off his bag as he slipped into Mary's now vacant seat.

"I told you that I don't respond to that nickname," Lily said, praying for patience in this dire hour.

"I think you just did."

"Well. Yes. I'm just saying, for future reference."

Potter messed with his already-messed-with hair before saying, "You know you like it."

"Don't tell me what I like. You don't know the first thing about me, Potter."

He rested his pale face in his hands.

**For the record**

**James had a striking face,**

**All smooth angles and hard lines—**

**(Lily thought about this now, and hated herself for it).**

"I know that you're too good for your friends," he said.

"Oi!" Bex smacked his shoulder.

"Present party excluded, Rollin."

"If you are referring to Severus Snape, Potter, then you might as well scoot that arrogant arse of yours out of that chair before I shove it off myself," Lily said, in the epitome of calmness. She was fine. She was calm, cool, capable, and competent. James Potter could not take that away from her.

"What do you see in the git, anyway?" Potter drawled, pushing back in his chair with his hands behind his head. "I mean, okay. So you were childhood best mates. I get it, honestly, I do. But now you're polar opposites. What exactly _do _you talk about when you're together?"

"How much we loathe you," Lily said in her most sugary sweet voice. "And you're so woefully wrong, Potter. See, you love yourself, and I hate you. That makes _us _polar opposites."

"You hate me if you tried, Cherrytop," Potter chuckled, readjusting his angular spectacles with one hand.

"Yeah?" Lily growled, capping her ink and stuffing her books into her bag. "_Watch me._"

And she stormed off in search of Mary, wondering all the while what she and Sev _did _talk about anymore.

**In truth:**

**James hated the fights afterward, but in the moment,**

**with the shouting and the energy,**

**it made him feel alive.**

**And at least Lily showed feelings toward him of **_**some**_** kind.**

"You think she'll ever come around?" James sighed, his mood dropping astronomically.

"Nope," came Bex's blunt reply. Blunt, but painfully honest.

"I've just got to step up my game then," he said, drumming his fingers on the table. "Catch you later, Rollin." He jumped to his feet to catch Remus and Peter, who were just leaving the library.

"Moony, Worms!" he called, catching them in the lengthy, self-assured strides of his long legs. "What's up?"

"What's up with you?" Remus said, voice betraying his disconcertment. "Since when do you _ever _go to the library?

**James Jonathan Potter**

**had attended the library eleven times **

**in his four years at Hogwarts.**

**(Nine out of these eleven times, Lily Evans **

**was present in the library as well).**

"Suspend your judgment, I beg of you. Suppose I was chatting with a bird?"

"Lily Evans?" Peter snorted. "Prongs, it's _never _going to happen."

"Let the doubters scoff all they like. My victory shall be all the sweeter."

"Are we talking about Quidditch or Evans here?" Sirius said, materializing at James's side.

"Quidditch," James said.

"Evans," Remus said.

"Evans," Peter said.

Sirius pumped his fist in the air. "Guilty!"

"Sod off," James said. "The only reason why Chers won't go out with me is because I haven't asked her."

"And you may never get the chance," Sirius said, eyebrows shooting upward.

"What was that, Padfoot?"

Sirius nodded to the side, where Lily Evans and Ryan Lewis were chatting in very close proximity to each other.

"She's allowed to be mates with blokes, for Merlin's sake—" James cut off as Lewis snuck a peck onto Lily's cheek. And then they were holding hands, just for a moment, before Lily walked off in her little black loafers with the flicker of a smile on her face.

**An observation:**

**Unrequited love is a very tiring business.**

Let us flash forward a year, reader, to the darkest year in the history of Lily and James.

The year Lily lost her best friend.

The year James lost hope in ever capturing the heart of a certain redhead.

The year Lily resented James Potter the most.

It started with a breakup. Lily and Ryan had been going strong all throughout the end of 1975 and into 1976, but eventually it was time that got in the way.

"I'm Quidditch captain now, Lily," he said, rubbing the soft skin between her forefinger and thumb. "And I'm taking extra classes this year, y'know, so that I can get that internship at St. Mungo's this summer…I just don't see how it can all work out."

Lily nodded. He was making sense, of course. That's what she loved about Ryan: he was so rational, so practical, thinking everything out. But still…

"We made it through last year, didn't we? Even though you had so much pressure on your shoulders to pass the O.W.L.S. with flying colors. And hey," she laughed— a raspy laugh that was choking back tears— "you got to keep your O's _and _your adoring girlfriend."

Ryan smiled slightly, but he still wouldn't bring his eyes up to hers.

"Rhys," she said quietly, "if you're going to break up with me, then say it up front."

"I'm— putting a suspension on our serious relationship. Until Quidditch finals are done, at least. If you've moved on by then, then that's okay."

The manner in which he said "okay" didn't sound that way at all.

"If you want to get back together, then…it would mean everything to me."

"I can't promise you anything," Lily admitted, blinking water from her eyes. "I just wish you'd stop thinking this is necessary. I like you, Rhys. I really like you. I could handle seeing you less— if it meant I could still be with you."

Ryan shook his head. "I'm not that selfish, Lils. You're a beautiful fifth year with the whole year ahead of you. You deserve to have fun, not be tied down to a bloke like me."

Lily swallowed, hard. She hadn't cried in five years, not since the day that Tuney called her a freak. Her tears weren't about to spill over now, not for a boy who was picking the easy way out of a heartfelt relationship with her.

"Just know that this was your decision, not mine," she finally said, backing away from a miserable looking Ryan Lewis. And the tears never hit her cheeks.

**Something James Potter lacked:**

**tact.**

I'm ashamed to report, reader, that an infatuated, fifteen year old James Potter could only wait five weeks after the breakup before asking Lily Evans out (the first time). The two were stuck with each other in a partner project in Potions one day in December, and Lily had her hair in two ribboned plaits down her shoulders, and her freckled nose was all pink in the drafty dungeon classroom, and her lips were puckered over a step she found disputable in the textbook, and the question slipped out almost on its own accord.

"So, Cherrytop, you wanna go out sometime?"

If Lily was surprised, she certainly didn't say so. In fact, she didn't say anything at all.

James cleared his throat. "Chers, are you ignoring me?"

"Oh, no," she said innocently, dumping the last of the Bubotuber juice into the cauldron. "I was simply pondering the multiple meanings of your unfortunately vague question. 'Go out…'" She faked confusion. "Go out? Out of the dungeon? Out of Hogwarts? Or were you aiming for an existential question, as in: do I want to escape the confines of a pureblood affirming society, or even _life itself?_"

"Evans," James said, trying to wring the exasperation out of his lowered voice. "You know what I mean."

And then the conspiratorial grin. "Oh…you mean…the famous James Potter, head Marauder, leading Chaser of the Gryffindor team, brilliant student, and _excellent _shag is asking me out on…a date?"

"Quit the facetiousness, Evans, I'm serious."

"Are you?" Lily said dryly, stirring the cauldron counterclockwise three turns. "Well, I'm not." She removed the ladle from the potion. "Professor, I think we've got our Euphoria Elixir just right," she called over to Slughorn, tugging down the sleeves of her rolled up blouse.

The pudgy man eagerly strode to his favorite pupil's desk. With a deep intake of breath, he judged the quality of the potion.

"Flawless as always, Lily," he beamed; the two had dropped the last name basis years ago. "Smells incredible. I'm rather tempted to take a shot or two myself."

"As long as you leave some for my dear partner Mr. Potter," she said, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "He'll need it more than you will."

Lily Evans did not _saunter_, but as James stared, shoulders tense, fists clenched tight as his first (but certainly not last) rejection strode out of class a whole twenty minutes before the bell, he couldn't help but think she came awfully close.

**Fact:**

**James Potter did not take the Euphoria Elixir.**

**Perhaps, his fellow Marauders surmised, he had something to prove?**

James, at this point, hated himself a little bit. Why couldn't he agree to a second date with the fit bird in his Astronomy class? Why couldn't he forget about the self-righteous redhead that skirted him day and night? Why was he inking the initials L.E. onto his History of Magic notes? Why couldn't put this five year crush behind him? Merlin, _what was wrong with him?_

**Steps Taken to Get Over Lily Evans:**

**Dating Hannah Price (coincidentally, another redhead)**

**Asking Marlene McKinnon to Hogsmeade**

**Not asking Lily Evans out for the entire month of February**

**Banning the names "Lily," "Evans," and "Cherrytop" from all Marauder discussions**

And you guessed it, reader— all these attempts brought fruitless results. It was only on the fateful day of May 3rd, 1976 that James Potter discovered the true secret of giving up on Lily Evans: loving her enough to let her go.

May 3rd, 1976:

It may sound familiar to you.

Picture this: an afternoon on the shores of the Black Lake, filled with students flitting in and out of the warming sun.

Note the Marauders lounging under the shade of a birch tree. James is releasing and catching a snitch languidly in the shade, thinking about the upcoming Slytherin versus Gryffindor game and the waxing moon that was to taking its toll on a certain werewolf friend of his.

Enter a Severus Snape, straightening out his rumpled robes from his studying in the grass.

James: "All right there, Snivellus?"

Snape reacts instantly with a shout of: "_Expelliarmus_!"

James beats him to it with: "_Impedimenta_!"

And suddenly Snape is cringing on the ground. A dramatic brief pause ensues, in which James revels in the crowd he is creating. He's been doted on his entire life, by his parents, by his friends, by his classmates— it comes as an expectation now.

James: "How'd the exam go, Snivelly?"

Sirius (with a cheeky grin): "I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment. There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

Another staged pause followed, to allow the laughter to rise and ebb with its natural flow.

Snape: "You—wait. You— wait…"

Sirius: "Wait for what?"

Snape: A list of curses so appalling that would surprise you, reader.

James, amused but unaffected, retaliates: "Wash out your mouth. _Scourgify_!"

Enter a flushed Lily Evans. She's had it up to her head in James Jonathan Potter and it's about time he knew it.

Lily (with force): "Leave him ALONE!"

And James does.

Lily: "Leave him alone. What's he done to you?"

Thrown off guard in front of his peers, James reaches for his favorite defense mechanism, sarcasm, admitting: "Well, it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean."

Lily, anything but amused, snaps through her teeth: "You think you're funny, but you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone."

James (predictably): "I will if you go out with me, Evans. Go on, go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

He knows the answer before it leaves her tongue. He knows she's too good for him, and that she will always be too good for him, and that his forward antics and overconfident personality will never win her heart, but he's too selfish and too careless and too _lazy _to change for her, so this is what he has resorted to. Playground pestering.

There were two boys in Lily Evans' life.

One chose to grow up for her,

And the other did not;

she chose the former.

Lily proclaims with all the ferocious derision she can pack into her naturally kind mouth: "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid!"

Sirius: "Bad luck, mate."

Reenter Snape, who was stumbled back onto his feet with the blackness of hate contorting his features.

There is a hex.

There is blood on James' forehead.

And there is a counterattack.

James has Snape at wandpoint again, and the boy is hanging upside down, his sad grey underpants and sad white legs there for the whole crowing crowd to deride.

Lily won't have it: "Let him down!"

James: "Certainly."

Snape crumples to the ground, a quick _Locomotor Mortis_ by Sirius keeping him there for a spell.

Lily (whipping out her wand in a fresh wave of fury): "Leave him alone!"

James hesitates. He's taking it too far— why can't he ever stop when he takes it too far? Trying to maintain good humor for the sake of the onlookers, he sighs: "Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you."

Lily: "Take the curse off him then."

James, muttering a countercurse: "There you go. You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus."

And then comes the moment all three of them would deeply regret for years and years to come. Snape, feeling cornered and alone and _pushed _by Potter and _pushed _by Mulciber and Avery and _pushed _into the Dark Circle, flails for a source of power. And it comes in the form of betrayal, betrayal of the one he holds the most dear: "I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Lily's throat constricts. He's done it then. They've been drifting and drifting and he's been receding deeper and deeper into the parts of himself that she fears most and she's been _waiting _and _dreading _and _hoping _but now it's too late. He's crossed the line. And something in Lily Amelia Evans snaps. She doesn't know "Sev" anymore, and in a moment of wanton desire, seeks to alienate him entirely. And so she says, bitterly, icily: "Fine. I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

And that's that. Something is snapping inside of James Potter, too.

James: "Apologize to Evans!"

Is this _his _fault, he can't help but wonder?

Lily: "I don't want you to make him apologize. You're as bad as he is…"

James won't take that. _He _would never hurt her, would never want to make her miserable—

But isn't that what he's done just now? By pushing her away from Snape?

James says (to save his precious image): "What? I'd never call you a— you-know-what!"

Lily lets all her hurt, all her pent up frustrations run loose as she regards the boy with crooked smile: "Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can — I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."

She doesn't feel better after she's said it, though. Actually, she doesn't feel better for quite some time.

**They were all miserable afterward.**

Snape was numb for a while. It didn't surprise him, what he did— he'd ruined so much already, dug himself in too deep— but this did not lessen his self-disgust in the least. So he had lost the girl he loved, loved since day one in the summer grass with the sun and time on his side. It made his job easier now, he told himself.

He didn't cry.

She didn't either. She had cried when Tuney dismissed her with a twisted mouth and cruel word. That was when the name calling had begun, and it certainly hadn't let up since. Her skin was tougher now; her skin was iron; her skin was steel. They called her freak and ginger and teacher's pet and virgin and Mudblood, and why shouldn't they?

It didn't matter.

It _couldn't _matter.

And so as Bex rubbed the small of Lily's back and Mary stroked her fingertips, she breathed out and the tears stayed in.

**Did you know?**

**Everyone forgets about James,**

**but he was miserable too.**

"So what if she compared you to the Giant Squid?" Sirius said, laughter dancing in his dark eyes. "She wasn't too far off, y'know."

James mustered a chuckle in response, but his friend recognized its phoniness in a heartbeat.

"She's rejected you before, Prongs," he said softly. "What makes this time any different?"

"I'm done," James finally replied. He was pleased at the way the two words slipped out, that the hoarseness was imperceptible in his voice.

"Done?"

"I'm done with Lily Evans."

Sirius snorted, folding his legs under him from where he sat across from James on the dormitory bed. "Yeah, mate, you've been saying that since second year."

"I mean it," James said somberly. "She doesn't matter anymore."

"Doesn't matter? Doesn't matter! Prongs, are you out of your bloody mind?" Sirius shouted, utterly baffled. "You mean I've put up with your schoolboy pining and melodramatic angst and idle staring for five years for_ nothing_?"

"Yeah."

"Just 'yeah?'"

"Yes, Padfoot. You should be rejoicing right now. No more talk of Lily Amelia Evans."

Sirius was beginning to believe him now, and he didn't like it one bit. "Merlin, Prongs. I'm sorry."

James swallowed, hard. He didn't know how to vocalize the myriad of thoughts scattered about his head, flying at him in little jagged pieces. He didn't know how to say that he'd done enough damage, pushed her to her breaking point, attacked her friend, left her as collateral damage, and needed to back out now before he ruined her life even more. See, James Jonathan Potter was in love with Lily Evans, and he was pretty damn sure she was better off without him.

But James didn't say any of this. Instead, he punched his hand against the wall, as a hard as he could. He drew it back, all bruised and broken and battered, and slammed it into the wall again.

"To hell with her anyway," he finally managed, voice breaking, as dark liquid from his knuckles oozed down his arm.

And James Jonathan Potter did not utter another word to Lily Amelia Evans for the rest of fifth year.

**More to come soon. Review and tell me what you think.**

**Jess**


	3. I Know What You Did Last Summer

**And here is the next chapter of many.**

**Disclaimer: Rowling owns Harry Potter, bless her perfect soul.**

**Enjoy.**

Chapter 2

I Know What You Did Last Summer

For a popular girl, Lily Amelia Evans was exceedingly lonely by mid-May of her fifth year. She had cut off Snape entirely. Her friends became preoccupied with their end of term studies. And for some unintelligible reason beyond her wit and wonderings, James Jonathan Potter was ignoring her. This wasn't a bad thing, necessarily; in fact, it was a blessing that Lily Evans had wished for since the Second Day of Firsts all those years ago.

**You know what they say, reader.**

**Be careful what you wish for,**

**because you just might get it.**

Now— in this dire moment of social life radio silence, as Lily couldn't help but think that something was _missing, _something that ought to _be_ there, she could have used a little more noise.

Lily became deeply melancholy in a matter of weeks, a fact that alarmed Bex the moment she managed to peek out from under her pens and parchment and truly regard her friend. The raven haired girl was ready to call for an intervention, but it appeared Lily had taken matters into her own hands.

Late one Thursday night in the Gryffindor common room, Bex was interrupted from her highly stimulating Arithmacy assignment by a flustered Lily, who whipped her scarf off her neck and tossed her robes aside with a mighty huff, proceeding to throw herself into the nearest armchair.

"Quite the dramatic entrance," Bex said, failing to raise her eyes from her notes. "I'd rate it a solid seven out of ten."

"Oh, Bex," Lily said quietly, ignoring the girl's monotonic quip, "I just did something I promised myself I would never do."

That had her friend's attention now. "Oh, honey, it's going to be okay." She dropped her papers to mount the armrest of the plush seat. Lily put her head in her hands.

"It's just— you've been so busy, and Mary's dating Andy Boot now, and Severus is gone, and I- _I_ _went and took back Ryan Lewis._"

If Bex was surprised, she masked it well. "It's nothing to worry about, Lily. It's not like you married him."

"It's just that I'm becoming the girl I never wanted to be. The weak one who needs a boy to make her feel okay again."

"He's not going to make you feel okay again," Bex told her, just like that. Her slender eyebrows furrowed slightly. "He's going to distract you. And who knows? Maybe you just need a distraction right now."

"Merlin," Lily exhaled. "But don't I. So you're not angry? Mary's going to be over the moon, of course, but she doesn't understand these things like you do."

"Well, I'm not angry," Bex affirmed. "I'm just disappointed."

**The upsides of being friends with Bex:**

**She always told the truth.**

**The downsides of being friends with Bex:**

**She always told the truth.**

So Lily Evans began dating an ecstatic Ryan Lewis again, and her moods _did_ rise (though her self-esteem did not). And June went by in a blur, until suddenly she was stepping off the train platform with his hand in hers, thinking of all that had gone right and all that had gone wrong.

"Write me from Italy, won't you?" Lily requested, kissing his shoulder lightly.

"Of course. And I'll visit you the moment I'm home again," he grinned down at her with a dimpled smile.

"Er— maybe I'll visit you." Tuney wouldn't take to any more than one wizard in the house, and her brick of a boyfriend Vernon might notice something fishy.

"Alright then," Ryan said amiably, but his words were stiff, as if he sensed something was off. They got like this sometimes, since the reunion in late May. Lily felt helpless to it, to this invisible wall between the two of them, but perhaps their time apart next month would help them through it.

She pecked Rhys's lips goodbye and released his smooth hands, looking toward the hidden entry back into the muggle world. With a resigned sigh, Lily pushed her trolley forward. Owl? Check. Book box? Check. Goodbyes to all friends? Check. Clothing trunk—

Lily's red shoes hesitated for a moment as she glimpsed James Potter over by exit, clapping Remus's shoulder in what must have been some form of farewell. And then he stopped, noticing her noticing him.

_Bloody prat_, Lily told herself, ripping her green eyes from his hazel ones. _I know one person I won't be missing this summer. _And she strolled out of Platform 9¾ with her shapely little chin held high.

_Dearest Lily,_

_ Our summer home in Italy has been spectacular. I know you would love everything about it, especially the gardens. Gramp's green thumb has resulted in the creation of the most gorgeous plants you had ever seen (not all of them being safe, of course, but he doesn't see all beauty as tame). You'd like Gramps too, I think._

_The cousins are fine company, of course, but I desperately miss you. So since I start my internship at Mungo's next week, I thought that I could give you a tour after I get to know the place. I know the Healer's occupation has always intrigued you, so I thought it'd been a fun day for us both._

_Let me know when you're available, Lils, and we'll make it happen. I can't wait to hear that lovely laugh of yours and see that brilliant head of hair again. _

_Yours,_

_Ryan_

Lily smiled at the letter before tucking it away. Short, simple and to the point: it was so endearingly Rhys that it made her heart ache a bit in missing him. And so she hurriedly wrote back with her dates, reader, not knowing that fate might have been writing them for her.

July 14, 1776: the seventh major attack of the rising cult leader, Lord Voldemort.

July 14, 1776: the day Lily Evans toured St. Mungo's with Ryan Lewis.

July 14, 1776: the day James Potter broke the silence.

July 14, 1776: the day all hell broke loose.

"Are you okay, darling?"

James Potter averted his mother's concerned gaze for the fourth time that day as the two headed down the tiled floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, James."

And he did.

"Listen. He's not untouchable. You have to remember that. He's an Auror, and every day can be a battlefield for him, and I know it's so hard for you to realize—"

"Don't coddle me," James said, running a hand through his hair. It was getting far too long; he would need a trim soon. "I'm sixteen, nearly of age."

"I know," Nancy Potter said wearily. "I know it too well. And it's a dark time to be a child. You've got to put on a brave face when you see him, though. He'll need it."

"Stop it," James said abruptly. His grey converses squeaked as he halted in place.

"Sweetheart?"

"Stop doing that, that thing where you treat me like I'm fragile, like I need to be handled with care."

"Keep your voice down, sweet, you'll cause a scene."

James shook his head adamantly. "God, you should _see _how Sirius is treated at home, and Remus too. They lead entirely different lives because of it, and then they see you with me, and—"

"Having parents who love you is nothing to be ashamed of, James."

But that was the issue, wasn't it? Everyone loved him, everyone adored James Potter, and he was sick of it.

**(The Bit James Doesn't Know).**

**Maybe he kept pushing because he wanted someone to push back.**

Nancy Potter's gloved fingers brushed her son's arm, but he pulled away quickly. "I can _handle _dad's injuries. I can _handle _the Death Eater scare, Uncle Gregory's death, the Prophet's attack on dad's department! Hell, I can even handle your dragon pox diagnosis!"

Mrs. Potter's face blanched immediately. "You- you know about that?" her voice shook.

And James knew he had screwed up now. "I'm so sorry, Mum…"

"For how long?" she demanded, lip quivering. "God, James, _for how long?_"

"Two months," he said gently. "I'm so sorry, there was an open letter from the hospital on Dad's desk, and I was curious, and…"

Mrs. Potter covered her mouth her kerchief. "We were going to tell you, when the time was right. When the cult scare had died down, when everything was seated comfortably. We were going to tell you—"

"When everything was perfect? I'm stronger than you think. You need to trust me, but now I can't trust you. I deserved to know, and not when the sun was shining and things turned right. I deserved to know the moment you found out. Merlin, Mum, you know that this Death Eater business isn't just going to float away, don't you? This is _real_, and your disease is _real, _but it's nothing we can't get through if we just stick together!"

James regretted the words the moment they erupted in the chatter of the lobby. He'd been too harsh, and she had become too brittle, and now he'd made her cry. Mrs. Potter's shoulders began convulsing rapidly. She was choking back sobs.

"I just w-wanted you to- to b-be ha-happy!" her strangled voice sounded. "Our o-only c-child, my b-beautiful s-son. Your life should b-be p-perfect, and n-now—"

He tried to touch her, to console her, to make it right, but Mrs. Potter wiped her eyes and strode toward the lift.

"Mum, listen for just a moment," he pleaded, following her as she went.

"Not now," she cried, shaking off his touch. "I- I need to speak to your father. Alone."

And so James watched as the doors closed on his red-eyed mother with a twisting, guilty heart.

"Bloody hell," he muttered into his tea on the Level Five Visitors' Center. "Why do I always manage to screw everything up?"

He wanted a Time Turner, to go back and erase those tears from his mother's heartbroken eyes. He wanted to rip that unidentified spell right off his father's chest, making his coma irrelevant. He wanted to escape this happy room filled with unhappy people. Most of all, he wanted to talk to Sirius. But none of them seemed to be options at the current moment.

"And that wraps it up, I think," a familiar voice entered earshot from the opposite side of the hall. "Do you have any question, my most astute student?"

"Just one," a lighter voice replied, and James's stomach churned violently. "This handsome tour guide of mine— I don't suppose he has a date tonight?"

"My, Miss Lily Evans, aren't you forward?"

And James saw Miss Lily Evans out of his peripheral slide a hand up Ryan Lewis's chest to whisper something in his ear. And suddenly he was thirsty for something his steaming tea could not satisfy. It was just so typical, wasn't it, as she was the one person he _didn't _want to see, and yet she was here, with _him, _over _there_, and so blissfully ignorant to the way he sat _here_, straining to hear her speak, straining to not speak back. He hated this. He hated—

"_Bombarda!_" a loud voice snarled. There was the sound of glass shattering, several deafening screams, and the stinging sensation of small projectiles smacking James's skin. And then the Death Eater emerged from the wreckage of the Visitor Care Package Shop, garbed in black robes and a menacingly sharp hat, and James held his breath.

"That's better," the man crooned to the hushed room. No one moved. No one dared speak. "I'm looking for a certain Geraldine Harris," he said in a velvety voice. "And I'm sure I can convince someone here to disclose her current whereabouts."

James could nearly hear his own blood coursing through his veins, the room was so still.

"How interesting. Not a soul who knows…your ignorance astounds me…forgive me if I do not accept it outright."

In two quick strides, he held a plump, middle aged witch at wandpoint. "What about you, dear lady? I don't suppose you know where sweet little Mudblood Geraldine Harris is located? No…how disappointing…_Crucio!"_

The woman shrieked and cried, writhing to the ground in agony. James's throat was dry. All he could think about was Lily, a muggleborn witch in the middle of what must be another Purging, as the Death Eaters called it, a morbid "Mudblood" hunting game that always ended in death.

**The irony:**

**For an allegedly self-absorbed person,**

**James Potter had no sense of self-preservation;**

**in moments of danger, he was completely self-less.**

If only Lily Evans knew this, reader!

"Geraldine!" the Death Eater cried, "come out, come out, wherever you are!" And then he was torturing another man, who was screaming please, please, I know nothing, please, oh God, please, I don't know, stop, I beg of you.

James's hand crept toward the wand in his robe pocket—but did he dare? If he was killed, who would protect Lily? Surely not that Lewis idiot…he was good with his books, but surely not with his spells.

The Death Eater proceeded down the hall, a step closer and closer to Lily. A young woman was tortured, and then an older man, and then—

"Not my boy!" a woman shouted, voice shaking, clutching her supposed son by his small green jacket. "Please, I'll tell you what you want, just stop this, don't hurt him!"

The Death Eater kept his wand raised. "Tell me the truth, woman, or I'll slit his throat."

"In t-the loo, on Level Five. She was washing up not f-five minutes past, I _saw _her, someone called her n-name…"

"Very well," he said coolly. "Thank you for your input." He dropped his wand from her face, and she collapsed, sobbing, groveling, when he added, "Your son will be going with me, of course, just to hold you to your word."

And then she was screaming again as he jerked the boy away from her, dragging him down the hall and out of the exit, running after them with stumbling feet.

For a heartbeat, it was silent.

And then chaos was let loose. People were running, ducking under tables, weeping, clutching each other, and James Jonathan Potter was sprinting towards Lily Amelia Evans as if his life depended on it.

He grabbed her arm tightly, and she spun around with wide eyes. "_Potter? _What are you doing here?"

"I don't really think it matters right now!" he snapped. "Listen, you know what happens during these Purges, don't you? You know what kind of danger you're in?"

"We're _all_ in danger," Lily shot back. "And at the current moment, Geraldine Harris's situation is much dire than mine!"

"You're not actually planning on…" He saw the determined flash in her emerald eyes, and he bit his lip, hard. "Merlin, woman, you're bloody insane! You can't go after a Death Eater! You'll be killed!"

"And if I don't, then _she _certainly will! From one muggleborn to another, I feel like— I don't know! I need to protect her!"

"Potter's right," Lewis spoke up for the first time, to her left. "That was Lucius Malfoy in there just a moment ago, I'd bet ten Galleons on it. I used to play against his Quidditch team in third year…nasty bloke, good with the Dark Arts…he'd crush you like a bug, Lils."

"Well _I'm _going," Lily said stubbornly, almost belligerently. "By myself, if that's what it takes."

Lewis held her in place. "Just thinkfor a moment, love. You're not a patient, you're not on the roster— that means your blood status isn't on record. The Death Eaters won't harm you, we can get you out of here safe!"

"Nowhere is safe for wizards like me anymore," Lily said resolutely. And all of a sudden James understood her fierceness. Lewis handled her as if she was made of porcelain, just like his mum treated him, and she had something to prove. James could respect that motive. And the more that he thought about it, he had a thing or two to prove, too…

"If we're going to go, it has to be now," he said firmly, and it was worth it to see the gratified look on her freckled face. "There's a life at stake here, right?"

"Right," Lily said, gripping her wand tight. Lewis glanced from Lily to James, from James to Lily, with an open mouth.

"You too_, _Potter? You can't be serious! You're fifth years…she could get hurt…"

James twitched irritably. "Actually, we're sixth years now, Lewis. And you're the one who's going to get hurt, if you don't get out of my way right now."

"Lily?" he turned to her, incredulous.

"Are you coming or not, Rhys?"

And the Hufflepuff swallowed, no doubt trying to find his inner Gryffindor.

"Should we split up?" Lily called to Potter as the three of them sprinted down the walkway. "Y'know, try and tackle Malfoy from two sides?"

"Bad idea," he replied, "since none besides your dear boyfriend over there know this institution particularly well. If someone gets lost…well, there goes our strength in numbers."

"Well, do you have a better idea?" she retorted.

"Yeah," he panted, his tousled hair sticking out this way and that as he ran, "it's a little method called 'point and hex.'"

"I don't really think now is the time to sass me, Potter!" Lily screamed back. The boy was even exasperating in life-threatening scenarios! Did he take _anything _seriously?

**A riddle:**

**Why was Lily Evans turning to help from her worst enemy**

**instead of her doting boyfriend?**

**Beats me, reader.**

They skidded to a halt in front of the signs for the lavatory.

"Um," Rhys started, uncertainly, "I've studied Auror battle techniques, and there _is _something to be said for flanking, so maybe we should—"

"Oh, shut up, Lewis," Potter grumbled, thrusting a hand through his hair. "Your studies won't help you know. All you have are your wits and your wand. See if you can make use of them, eh?"

And Lily almost smiled in spite of herself as he thrust open the woman's lavatory door. The three of them pushed through, side by side, to see Malfoy suspending Geraldine Harris in the air with his wand.

"_Stupefy!_" Potter roared, catching the Death Eater in a moment of surprise. The spell blasted Malfoy against a stall with a remarkable _thump. _The boy blinked. "That was shockingly easy."

"Get out of here!" a shrill Geraldine screamed from her collapsed heap on the ground. "Get out now, the others— they're coming, any moment now!"

"She's been frightened out of her mind," Ryan informed Lily. "I recognize the symptoms, I've been working with them for weeks."

"Just a minute, Lewis!" Potter broke in. "I think she's telling the truth."

At that moment, three more Death Eaters burst into the large lavatory, taking in the scene in a second.

"God, I hate it when I'm right," Potter groaned.

And then the lights and the hexes and shouting began. Lily could hardly see, hardly hear through them all; she was screaming _Stupefy _and _Immobulus, _dodging with _Protego, _rolling and ducking and somehow shooting at the same time. Ryan went down next to her; some bluish hex had knocked him out. "_Petrificus totalus!_" Lily screamed, and her fear gave her clarity— she had managed to hit a Death Eater straight on, and he collapsed in a solid body lock.

Potter was taking on the other two at once, and for a moment, Lily could only watch. It was true, what they said. He really was the most gifted wizard of his age. Not even bothering to speak the spells aloud, the boy with the jet black hair and the skewed glasses leapt left and right, under stalls and over them, blasting red and purple and green and yellow hexes from his wand, tossing away the Death Eater's curses with a mere flick of his wrist.

"Um, a little help here, Cherrytop!" he managed out after rolling to the left, evading a _Reducto _that decimated the stall beside her.

"Right!" Lily replied, her voice two octaves higher than intended. She army crawled out from under the sink and began blasting at the Death Eater's legs. The spells weren't powerful enough to cause too much damage, but the distraction was enough for James to bring down a man down with a hex she couldn't quite identify.

One more to go. They had a fighting chance now, she realized as she aimed a blasting curse at the doorframe above the Death Eater. It collapsed with a great cracking noise and crashed into the first stall door, revealing to Lily's shock the boy in the green jacket she'd seen earlier.

Potter froze for a millisecond, understanding there was another factor at stake. A millisecond was all it took for their opponent to catch him off guard, and Lily saw the strike in slow motion, the twist and thrust of the wand, and all of a sudden she was leaping in front of the boy's hesitating body.

The world exploded into purple, and then black.

"Cherry? Cherrytop? You awake in there?" James Potter's voice echoed in her ears as she reentered consciousness.

"I feel like hippogriff dung," Lily moaned. She rubbed her eyes groggily.

"And she reenters the land of the living! Congratulations on surviving another day on this desolate planet."

"For the love of Merlin, dock the noise a level."

"Grouching and complaining, is that really the way you want to thank your rescuer?"

Lily jerked her body into an upright position, remembering the attack and the curse and the blackout. She was in a hospital ward with James Potter beside her, who was watching her keenly with his chin propped up in one hand.

"Where's Ryan?" she asked nervously.

"Sleeping. Don't worry, Chers, I took care of everything. After you took that spell for me, I had just enough of an edge to stupefy the bloke before he touched a hair on sweet Ryan's head."

"Are you mocking me?"

He threw his hands up into the air. "Up for interpretation. You seem like a bright bird, figure it out."

Lily flopped back onto the bed with a huff. She couldn't really find it in her to be angry at Potter right now, despite how pleased he seemed with himself.

"The Purge?" she croaked. "Is it over?"

He nodded, all business now. "Yeah. We hunkered down in the last lavatory stall for a while, and I managed to charm Lewis back into consciousness and keep our little friend quiet— his name is Reginald Cattermole, if you were wondering. Quite a mouthful, isn't it?"

"_James_," Lily said in exhaustion. "Spill the rest of it, will you?"

He paused for a moment, licking his lips, and she realized awkwardly that she had called him by his first name. It really was better than Potter though, which lacked any kind of musicality.

"So, we waited it out and worried over your supposed dead body—"

Lily raised her eyebrow at that.

"—and finally a magically amplified voice announced an all-clear, and I carried you to Level Four to get this hex sorted out. And that's that."

"You carried me?" The thought was mortifying.

"Yeah. Lewis wasn't feeling quite up to it yet."

Oh, Rhys. She would _kill _that boy when she had the chance, after she kissed him for being alive.

"Right, then." James cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I guess I'll be off then."

"Wait a moment. Where are you popping off to now?"

Oddly, she didn't want him to leave just yet.

"None of your business."

She folded her arms. "Like that's stopped anyone before."

He chuckled half-heartedly. "'Bye, Evans."

"I'll follow you if you don't tell me."

"No you won't."

"Yes I will."

"You need your rest."

"Yes I do."

"So you'll stay."

"Not a chance."

James groaned theatrically, jiggling the doorknob in apparent vexation. "Fine. You win. I'm going to visit my parents. They're just down the hall."

"Your parents? They're here? Why?"

"Oh no," James said, an enigmatic grin tugging at his lips, "I just answered a question. It's your turn now. Why _did _you take that curse for me, Evans? Mind you, I'm quite grateful of course, just a bit befuddled."

Lily shifted on her bed. "I…don't know. You were doing all the real work. I guess I thought your odds were better against the Death Eater than mine."

"Yeah," he said, still fiddling with the door handle. "I guess that makes since."

A pregnant silence.

"Yep," Lily said.

He was watching her carefully, trying to read her expression, trying to work out a truth she didn't have the answer to, and so Lily desperately threw out a red herring.

"The Death Eaters," she blurted out. "Were they apprehended?"

"Two out of the four of them," James said bitterly. "Malfoy and one other got away."

"Oh." Lily twisted her scraggly hair into a low bun behind her head, conscious of the fact that she had not screamed at Potter for the entirety of their exchanges. What was she supposed to do with that?

James made as if to leave again, but paused right before slipping out the door. "Hey, Evans," he said slowly, raising his shadowed eyes up to hers, "you didn't…notice anything strange about one of the Death Eaters, did you?"

"What do you mean?"

He pushed down a lock of hair that stuck up pugnaciously at the back of his head. It popped right back up again. "One of them looked familiar to me. His build…his height…and when you hexed him, he shouted, and I could have sworn…"

"Spill it, Potter."

"He was Roth Muliciber."

Lily hooked a stray lock behind her ear. "What in the name of Merlin would make you think—"

"I just know, okay?"

"You…just…know."

"It was Muliciber, and he got away, and I'll prove it to you when our next term starts."

"He's a nasty bloke, I'll give you that much. But working with Death Eaters? He used to be friends with Snape. I don't think he'd go to those extremes."

"Times are changing, Chers. Didn't anything that happened in the last few hours convince you of that? He's one of Voldemort's cronies now, and I'm sure that another third of Slytherin house could say the same."

"Those are some serious accusations."

"I know," James stated solidly, and his eyes were severe and earnest for perhaps the very first time.

"Okay," Lily said. "Fine. Maybe I trust you, a little. But blimey, James, this is so…"

"Real?"

"Exactly."

"I'll prove it to you," he said quietly.

And then he slipped out the door without another word, leaving Lily Amelia Evans squinting at the space he had occupied moments before in blatant confusion.

**As a wise woman might have said,**

**There are some things you can't share without ending up tolerating **_**each other, **_

_**and knocking out four Death Eaters is one of them.**_

_**AN: Bonus points for those who spotted the Philosopher's Stone parallels. **_

_**More to come.**_

_**Jess**_


End file.
